


Through the Looking Glass

by spae



Series: Dangerous Hobby [8]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Humor, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Eavesdropping, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spae/pseuds/spae
Summary: Jimmy overhears Abby and Tim.





	Through the Looking Glass

“Go and take these to Miss Sciuto,” Ducky said, writing on the evidence labels in an uneven scrawl. “Ask her to check for evidence of foreign matter. I won’t need them till tomorrow, so tell her there’s no hurry.”

“Sure, Doctor Mallard,” Jimmy replied, signing the labels himself. “Are you heading home now?”

“I shall be in a few minutes!” Ducky winked into the mirror above where he was scrubbing his hands. “I’ve just got to finish my written report, then I’ll update Jethro on my way out. You can go home too, once you’ve passed those on.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Jimmy grinned, knowing the old man had a date he was eager to get to. “Have a great time tonight!”

“Why yes, I think I shall indeed,” Ducky mused happily. “Goodnight, Mister Palmer.”

“Goodnight, Doctor.”

Jimmy whistled his way out into the corridor, calling for the elevator. It came in its own time, and wheezed its way upwards toward Abby’s lab, so Jimmy took advantage of the time to pull faces in the mirrored wall. Actually, he was practising raising one eyebrow, but the mirror wasn’t aware of that.

Eventually it stopped, and Jimmy stepped out jauntily only to come to a halt.

_Abby’s lab had the door shut._

Now to understand the thought processes that streaked through Jimmy’s head, one would have to have been present for the past few years and experience the truly horrific events which had necessitated the door being shut in the past.

Jimmy’s heart accelerated to twice its normal rhythm as he tried to look into the lab. He could just see through to Abby and McGee in the inner lab, and McGee was looking pretty strung out – oh no, _was_ there a real problem? Should he alert security? Maybe he could _check_ first.

Jimmy hightailed it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator; he skidded into Autopsy’s office, moving Ducky’s hat off the keyboard to sign in to the computer system with shaking fingers.

An icon on the desktop allowed him to view the CCTV feed, installed by techies after one too many incursions, and he scrolled through the various scenes of absolute normality until he got to Abby’s lab.

McGee was sat astride a wheelie chair, his arms across the backrest, his body language slightly more confident now than it had been before, but Abby was nodding as he talked, and doing something with her datapad. It looked serious.

“Let’s find out what’s going on,” Jimmy muttered to himself.

He turned up the sound.

 

“- which was really in-depth, and I got suckered into the whole case, thinking about what I’d do to solve it, but then McGregor'd do _exactly_ what I’d do, and even though Tommy'd take the piss and goof around, it never felt _mean_ , y’know?”

“You and Tony do have a complicated relationship, McGee,” Abby pinned him with a Look.

“The worst thing about it,” McGee grumbled, “is that I’m starting to understand Tony better after reading these stories than I ever did when he was being a pain in the ass to my face.”

“Well, _duh_ ,” Abby slapped his head for him. “If Tony _wanted_ you to know how he felt about you, he’d leave you alone.”

“Tony is very weird,” McGee decided.

“And again with the _Duh_ ,” Abby said. “But anyway, back to the ‘So much Tibbs/Tommy’ you teased me with earlier …”

“Oh damn,” McGee shuddered.

“Man up, McGee, tell me which one got your juices flowing!” Abby grinned salaciously. “Was it that Lethal Weapon mashup? Or the Mafia one? That was _my_ favourite! Come _on_ , Timmy. Oh I know, the one with the Olympic gymnast and his coach!”

“I don’t think there was one in particular. I’m pretty sure it was just the _writing_ –”

“Oh no you don’t, Timmy. Stop trying to weasel out of it – gimme the skinny!”

McGree dropped his head in his hands with a hiccoughing laugh. “It's just _weird_ , Abs. I was just reading, and okay, reading and reading and then suddenly I was in Tommy’s head and it made _perfect sense_ why he’d go for Tibbs. I mean, I read the pirate fic first, and that was _freakishly_ hot, and I’m on the other side of the mirror now and everything is distorted and I can’t even –”

“I know what you mean,” Abby nodded seriously. “I mean, who can’t imagine Gibbs striding across the deck, sword in hand and just oozing toppy pheromones all over the place? I loved that bit at the beginning where his men dragged Tony up from the lower decks by his hair, wrists bound, and threw him at Gibbs’ feet – and he still mouthed off!”

“You mean _Tibbs_ and _Tommy_ ,” McGee said severely.

“Hah,” Abby cackled. “Sure I do, McGee! Because they’re SO VERY DIFFERENT from Gibbs and Tony!”

McGee sank his head into his arms. “What am I gonna _do_ , Abs?”

“Why you gotta _do_ something?”

“Well, they … I … it’s …” McGee seemed to be struggling with how to word it. “ _Fanfiction_ , Abs – how do I stop it?”

There was a high-pitched squeal which preceded a great deal of hilarity, and Abby convulsed helplessly back into her chair.

“You _can’t_ , Timmy. Genie’s out of the bottle; Pandora opened the box; _Timmy wrote a book!”_ she wagged a finger at him. “You might as well enjoy it.”

McGee reddened significantly. “That’s the worst part of it, Abs,” he admitted. “Those stories are really embarrassingly filthy –”

“And hot,” Abby interjected. “And kinky as fuck.”

McGee shot her a glare. “And it’s _people we know_ , Abs. Gah, you know Gibbs would have my head on a platter if he knew … I mean, he never _said_ anything, but I got this vibe off of him when the book came out; he wasn’t impressed, and I just–” he trailed off for a moment. “And I haven’t even read any of the other pairings, but it’s _not okay_ , Abs.”

“Well, it’s not something to mention at the family dinner table,” Abby agreed. “But you and me, we can talk about it. This is just something people _do_ right now. I get that you’re upset because it’s us, and really, you should’ve thought about what you were doing before you published. But McGee, oh don’t _cry_ –” she pulled him in for a hug, his head on her shoulder. “You’re such an innocent. You weren’t to know what perverts people are, taking your story of crime-solving and turning your characters into insatiable sex-puppets!”

“I just feel awful,” McGee muttered thickly. “I’ve looked at Gibbs at least twice today, wondering what sexploits he’s getting up to – or not, now Tony’s not here.”

Abby laughed out loud and let him go. “You’re in _dangerous_ waters there, Timmy.”

“I know,” wailed McGee. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just funny, or sickening, but,” and he looked earnestly at Abby, willing her to understand. “It’s sexy as all get out and I’m getting off on it.” He sighed sadly. “And in all honesty I can’t wait to go home and read more!”

“You’ve got it bad,” Abby sympathised. “It’ll pass, I promise. You just gotta let it get outta your system. Try not to feed it, McGee!”

“I’m _halfway_ through a series, Abby!”

“Well, addictions are terrible things, McGee,” Abby grinned wickedly. “You gotta go out and get laid – take your mind off of _fictional_ sex.”

“It’s not your worst idea,” McGee pondered, getting up and backing toward the outer lab. “But not _this_ weekend, Abs – I have a date with my laptop!”

“McGee!” she squealed, throwing a cushion at his retreating back. “You little horn-dog! Don’t blame me if you can’t look Gibbs in the eye ever again!”

 

Jimmy watched her follow him out and sucked in a sharp breath. “ _I_ can never look _any_ of them in the eye again,” he breathed.

“Isn’t that a little over-the-top, Mister Palmer?” Ducky inquired, reaching over his assistant and snagging his hat.

“Aaahhh!” Jimmy yelped, fingers diving to shut the CCTV window.

“I think you’re trying to shut the barn door some time after the horse has bolted,” Ducky observed drily.

Jimmy accepted the truth of that, whole body vibrating as his brain buzzed wildly with the question, _‘How long was he standing there?’_

Ducky sighed. “Mister Palmer, in my day a young lady taken with the dashing good looks of a potential beau would start by enticing his attention. Whether this endeavour failed or achieved its goal of garnering his long-lasting affection, the young lady’s brain would inevitably construct a fantasy around his inevitable seduction, and so in the end if they were not fated to be lovers, the young lady could exorcise the romance and move on, having had her way, in some fashion.” He smiled, warming to his subject.

“And likewise, the young men tumbling head-over-heels in hero-worship of a worthy role model, would likewise compete for his attention, with feats of strength or skill or wit, dependent upon the value the object of their affection ascribed to each. And such it has been for thousands of years. The Greeks in particular were not shy to entwine hero-worship with sodomy and other homosexual practices.

“This generation thinks it invented the pornographic masturbation fantasy,” Ducky winked and put on his hat. “And I will admit the internet has provided a vast platform for such things to be shared, which I will admit I find a little _crass_. However, my point stands, Mister Palmer. There is _nothing_ new under the sun, and your fear that I should be upset by the dissolute habits of the youth of today is surprising; I was young myself once, and even one as old as I am can see the lure of a man like Jethro.”

Jimmy gaped.

“He’s a _catch_ , Mister Palmer. The man is a legend, and that is always attractive. But let’s leave it there; I cannot keep a lady waiting,” he adjusted his hat to a rakish angle and walked out.

“Did he …?” Jimmy murmured to himself. “Did he just tell me it was _inevitable_ that people would fantasise over _Gibbs?_   I think he did.”

Jimmy closed the computer down, picked up the evidence again and walked upstairs in a fog.

The door was open this time and he held the items for Abby as she signed for them.

“You alright, Jimmy?” she asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I will be,” he replied, with a curious little half-smile, turning to leave. “I just fell down a rabbit hole and met the Caterpillar.”


End file.
